


its okay to say you've got a weak spot

by notquitepunkrock



Series: the kids you used to love, but then we grew old [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, And a Hug, Art Club, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, High school teachers AU, Regulus needs friends, it's just warm happy fluffy feelings tbh, no one is serious but if youll be triggered by that please skip this, there a few suicide jokes in there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-11 23:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12946059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquitepunkrock/pseuds/notquitepunkrock
Summary: Regulus joins Art Club at the insistence of Sirius, but he doesn't expect to enjoy it.





	its okay to say you've got a weak spot

**Author's Note:**

> some reg fluff because he needed someone to care <3 
> 
> title from I Am Not A Robot by Marina and the Diamonds, which is my favorite song tbh

Dean sighed, running a hand wearily across his face and leaning heavily on his podium. “Zara, I know it’s frustrating, but let’s not make any rash decisions,” he said gently. 

The teenage girl in front of him groaned loudly, causing several students to glance in her direction. “But Mr. Thomas,” she argued, putting on her best pouting face. “They won’t do the thing.”

“Trust me, I know,” he said complacitingly. “I’m well aware, but throwing yourself off of the balcony won’t make your watercolors any more cooperative. Believe me.” He had a faraway look on his face, as if remembering some long forgotten moment in time. 

Zara frowned, crossing her arms. “But it’ll help for the moment,” she whined, a smile playing on her lips. Dean held back his own chuckle as Luna drifted by, hair tied up with a scrunchie she’d made herself.

“Dean, dear, don’t discourage Zara’s creativity,” she chided teasingly, sweeping towards a pair of students bent over a desk. “Laurel, Milo, remember, you have to  _ wear  _ the mask to support mental health awareness in order to get the credit.”

Milo glanced up from his mask, a black painted mold of his face dripping with bloody tears and rainbows painted across the cheeks. “It’s a representation of my depression and the internalized homophobia I face growing up in an intensely Christian household,” he explained. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he stared up at his teacher. “Does it look okay, Ms. Lovegood?”

She leaned forward, peering at the mask. “Looks wonderful, Milo,” she agreed. “Ralph will be starting the meeting in a few minutes, just so you know.” She swept back to the front of the room, just as said boy stood up twisting his fingers together.

“So, um, hi guys,” he said, glancing at Dean, who nodded reassuringly. “Today’s a quick meeting, but, um, we need to vote on our shirts next week and stuff. I got a few designs from you guys, but it would be cool if we had some more. Also, we need to figure out what we’re doing for the Winter Fair? I was thinking facepainting would be good, maybe.”

Laurel’s head popped up long braids nearly hitting Milo in the face with the movement. She smiled brightly. “I wanna paint people’s faces!” she exclaimed, holding up her mask, which was bright yellow with a big cartoon-y black smile and clouds painted around the forehead. “I vote we do that.” 

Dean made a note of it on his clipboard, eyes drifting over the Art Club members gathered in his classroom. He cleared his throat, eyes settling on two girls with glasses near the back of the room, only a few feet away from Milo and Laurel. “Harley, you’d better not be threatening to stab yourself in the throat with that paintbrush,” he called. The shorter of the girls looked up, grinning at the teacher.

“Aw, Mr. Thomas,” she complained. “It wasn’t me this time, it was Rebel!” Dean rolled his eyes heavenward, as if begging for help controlling these students. 

The door opened as if the heavens were answering his silent prayer. A tall, thin boy stepped through, staring around the room with wide gray eyes. He looked like he very much regretted his decision as he took in the clusters of students around tables, hands covered in paint and clay and nearly every other art medium one could think of.

“Regulus, come in,” Dean called, and the thin boy shuffled closer. His long dark hair fell into his eyes and he ducked his head as if everyone was staring at him. “Harry and I already discussed you joining the club. I’m Mr. Thomas, and I believe you have 3D Art with Ms. Lovegood, is that right?”

Regulus nodded hesitantly, curling his fingers around the sleeves of his jacket. Dean frowned, but only for a moment. Harry, Remus, and Luna had all already warned him that the boy was not coming from the best situation and would likely be very uncomfortable for at least a few meetings.

“Alright then. Regulus, this is Ralph,” he motioned to the nervous boy fiddling with the ends of his sleeves beside him. “He’s the president. If you need anything, feel free to ask him. Ralph, I trust you’ll look out for Regulus. He’s new to the school.”

Ralph nodded, smiling hesitantly. “Of c-course,” he stammered. “Hi Regulus. I think we have History together.”

Regulus looked up from the floor, where he’d been staring since Dean had started talking. Recognition flashed across his eyes and a small, shy smile appeared on his pale face. “We do,” he mumbled. “You knew more about the Harlem Renaissance than Mr. Potter did.” 

Ralph nodded, cheeks turning bright red. “Y-Yeah, well, I love art and my grandparents are from the Harlem area, so it’s something I, uh, know really well. Go sit down in the back, near Laurel and Milo - Milo’s in our class too, he’s th-the kid with the long hair and angry eyes. I’ve got one more announcement for the club before we can all just, um, like, hang out and stuff.”

Regulus nodded hesitantly, and hurried to the back of the room, dropping his bag nar Milo but leaving a decent amount of space between him when he sat down. The other boy looked up and Laurel offered him a bright smile, but Regulus was focussing on the table in front of him.

“Okay, guys, one last thing and then you can ignore me and whatever,” Ralph continued, turning back to the rest of the club. “So, um, homecoming is soon, and we need to start working on decorations and the float. I think if we split it up, then we each only have to do, like, half the work, and I’ll, um, help with everything, of course.”

Luna joined Ralph at the front of the classroom, her long skirt sweeping the floor in a way that made her look like she was floating. “The theme this year is A Night in Camelot, so I want you to think knights and princesses and wizards,” she said airily. She paused, eyes landing on Milo and Harley, who were sharing a mischievous look. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to limit you to  _ one _ dragon.” 

Harley let out a long groan. “But Ms. Lovegood,” she complained, pouting a little bit. “Dragons are  _ cool _ .” The teacher smiled, but shook her head, and Harley turned away with a frown. 

“No fair,” she grumbled. She twisted suddenly in her seat, leaning over towards Milo. This involved going in front of Regulus, but she was careful not to get to close. She shoved her glasses up her nose with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of the bright yellow paint that seemed to cover her arms on the frame.

“You’re gonna make a sick as fuck papier-mache dragon to put on the float, right?” Harley asked seriously, paying no attention to the stumbled closing remarks Ralph had before he hurried to the seat between Milo and Regulus.

Milo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Duh,” he replied. “But you’ve got to paint it.”

“Deal,” she said firmly, sitting up and grinning at Regulus. “We’re gonna have the best fucking float in the entire fucking parade. Ain’t that right, Rebel?” She nudged her friend with her elbow, and the taller girl sent her a glare.

“We’d have the best float anyway, because Zara is working on it, and she’s super talented and I hate her,” Rebel agreed, laughing at the embarrassed flush that covered the girl’s cheeks and her protests.

Regulus looked equal parts alarmed and amused by the group that he had somehow fallen into. The conversation carried on around him, and he listened silently. He startled when, after a few moments of conversation, Zara groaned loudly, dropping her head onto the table. Her forehead just barely missed her painting, but some of her short blonde hair dragged through the muted pinks. 

“How hard do you think it would be for me to kill myself with Rebel’s pencil?” she asked, sitting upright again and raking her ink-stained hands through her hair. When they came away pink, she didn’t seem to notice, eyes locked on the pencil Rebel was using to write down a list of ideas for the homecoming float.

Rebel looked up, raising both eyebrows. “Why are you gonna use  _ my _ pencil?” she asked. “It’s my only one, and I have Calc homework that I need to do tonight, but am probably definitely gonna put off until tomorrow. Plus it took me forever to sharpen it - look, look how nice this point is!”

Zara let out another groan and started begging, despite the smile that played on her lips. Regulus hesitated, looking around at the others before he tentatively pulled her painting towards him to get a better look. “It’s not that bad, but if you’re really committed I bet you could use the edge of the paper. Die for your art,” he said quietly, a small smile playing on his lips. The entire table froze, staring at him, and for a moment he worried he’d said something wrong.

Suddenly Zara’s face broke into a smile, and she turned to Ralph excitedly. “I like him,” she said brightly, picking up her paintbrush again to resume working on the project. “He doesn’t get weirded out easily.”

Ralph grinned, carefully examining each of his friends’ faces for a moment, before clapping Regulus’ shoulder gently. “Welcome to the Death Squad, Regulus,” he said brightly.

Laurel looked up from her mask, frowning around at them. “Which reminds me,” she said, voice surprisingly stern. “None of you are allowed to die. I love you guys.” Everyone rolled their eyes, but a bright smile crossed Regulus’ lips.

\----

Regulus paused in the doorway of the living room, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. His cell phone, a brand new one that Sirius had bought him after he’d moved in, because there was no way that his parents would keep paying for one, was clutched in his hand, screen open to the Death Squad group chat.

“Sirius, Remus?” he said quietly. “Can I, um, ask you a question?” Remus set down his book, and smiled at him, while Sirius set aside his stack of essays, looking a bit relieved.

“Oh thank god, there’s only so many times I can read about the themes of  _ Inferno _ before I start to go crazy,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “What can we help you with, Reg?”

Regulus entered the room, glancing back down at the screen of his phone. Laurel had sent him a good luck message, which was followed by a myriad of reassurances from the rest of his friends.

Friends. Regulus wasn’t sure he’d actually had those before. It was nice, having friends.

“Um, do you still have an extra motorcycle trailer in the backyard?” he asked. Remus and Sirius shared a confused look, but both nodded. “Great, um, can we- the Art Club- use it for our trailer for homecoming? Mr. Thomas has one, but he’s not quite sure where it is, because his stuff is kind of all over the place since he moved and-”

“Reg, calm down,” Sirius chuckled. “‘Course you can use it. I’ll pull it out in the morning. The Fashion Club is already using my bigger one, so I hope you don’t mind it’s a bit small.”

“Awesome, thanks,” Regulus said. He hesitated, shifting his weight between his feet and biting down on his lower lip. Remus was watching him with raised eyebrows, and sat forward a bit in his armchair.

“Was there something else, Regulus?” he asked kindly.

Regulus jumped a little and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Actually, uh, I was wondering if we could work on it here? It wouldn’t be too many, just Zara and Laurel and Milo and Ralph and Rebel and Harley, and Laurel has control of the money stuff and Milo has a truck to transport and things, but we need to work on it somewhere and, um, yeah.” He cut himself off abruptly, looking hopefully between the two men. 

Sirius’ face lit up, and Remus looked a bit like he was biting back a smile. “Yes, of course, any time works,” Sirius said quickly.

“Would, um, tomorrow work? At least to get started,” Regulus asked quickly. “We need to get some craft stuff, and Milo wants to start on his dragon, if it’s okay if we use the garage.”

“No problem, kiddo,” Remus said, smiling brightly now. “We’d love to have them.”

A bright smile broke it’s way across Regulus’ face, one that lit up his eyes. It was something that neither adult had ever seen before. “Awesome! Thanks Siri - and you too, Rem!” he ran out of the living room, ducking his head down to text his friends back with the news as he hurried to his bedroom upstairs. 

Remus and Sirius shared a look. “He invited people over, Moony,” Sirius said, his voice sounding just moments away from breaking into tears.

Remus hummed in acknowledgement. “Are they friends, do you think?” he asked thoughtfully, eyes still trained on the doorway that his brother-in-law had just vacated. He thought about the group of students Regulus had mentioned, a group of dedicated art students who were, as far as he knew, very kind and loyal. He hoped they were.

“Moons, he  _ invited them over _ ,” Sirius said once again. He leapt to his feet and began searching the room for his boots. “I have to go get the things to make cookies. Remus! Our boy made friends!”

\----

Laurel was the first to arrive the next day. She was wearing paint covered overalls, and her long braids pulled back into a high ponytail with a pink bandana tied around her head. “Hi Reg!” she exclaimed, pulling the taller boy into a tight hug when he opened the door. Regulus returned it easily, much to the surprise of the men watching from the kitchen. 

“Um, come on in,” he said once she pulled away. “My brother made cookies. They’re in here if you want some.”

Laurel bounced her way into the kitchen, her bright yellow sneakers slapping quietly on the floor. “Hi Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin,” she said, taking a cookie of the plate that Sirius had piled high with them just a few minutes before. “Wow, these look delicious.”

“Thank you, Laurel,” Sirius grinned.

Regulus was rolling his eyes at the polite conversation his brother was having when there was another knock on the door. Milo stood on the threshold with Zara, holding two massive jugs of Elmer’s glue. Zara, meanwhile held a large stack of newspaper and a bucket. 

“We would’ve been here sooner, but  _ someone _ took forever to get dressed this morning,” Milo said, glaring pointedly at Zara. “Ralph’s bringing the structure I made for the dragon in his truck.”

“Hey, I couldn’t find my messy jeans, okay? Leave me alone,” she complained, rolling her eyes at her step-brother. “I’m so hyped, though, like, seriously, Reg, wait ‘til you see it.” 

“Can’t wait,” he said sincerely. “Wanna put that stuff down in the garage? Sirius already pulled out the trailer for us. It’s the one that doesn’t have the weird jousting catwalk thing on it.” He led the siblings through the kitchen and opened the garage door. Harley pulled up in her car as he was helping them put water in the bucket using an old hose, and she and Rebel hurried up to them.

Regulus looked up and grinned at the messy space buns Harley had tossed her hair into and the apron hanging off of Rebel’s arm. “Hey guys,” he said, “there’re cookies in the kitchen, if you want some.”

“Wait a second, there are cookies, and you let me help Mr. Frowny Face over here instead?” Zara asked loudly, nearly dropping the glue bottle she was moving onto a table. “What the hell, Black?”

He laughed, a real laugh, the kind that had evaded him for a long time. “Sorry, didn’t know you’d want any,” he said, flinching only slightly at the way her eyes flashed dangerously.

“Hell yeah I do,” Zara announced, already halfway to the door. “Cookies are one of the only reasons life is worth living. Jesus, I thought you knew that.” Her grin was bright, though, and she shot a wink at Regulus before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Well, that happened,” Milo said, looking mostly unamused. “I’m gonna go see if she needs help or whatever.” He shoved his hands into the front pocket of his black hoodie. He trotted after Zara into the house.

Harley rolled her eyes. “Don’t let Milo fool you, he really just wants to smuggle all the cookies into his pockets when no one is looking,” she said seriously.

Rebel nodded in agreement. “He did that once with my sister’s Girl Scout cookies. One minute, there was a pile of Do Si Do boxes on the table, the next they were gone. It was tragic, really.”

“I don’t blame him,” Regulus said with a shrug. “Sirius makes great cookies. Don’t tell him, though, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Just as they were turning to head inside, Ralph’s truck parked on the street, the framework for the dragon propped up in the bed. He stumbled out of the front seat and ran up the driveway, cheeks bright pink as he caught up to them. “I know, I’m late,” he said awkwardly. “I totally overslept. You doing okay, Reg?”

Regulus nodded. “I’m great. I think my brother was a little freaked out by the prospect of you guys coming over,” he replied. “He made a bunch of food.”

Ralph’s eyes lit up. “Food?” he asked eagerly. The he turned even redder, looking away awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn’t have breakfast. I’m starving. It’s cool if you don’t have anything or whatever.”

Regulus laughed. “Come on, dork, let’s get something in you before you starve to death,” he teased. Ralph laughed too, throwing an arm around Regulus’ shoulder.

_ This is what it feels like to have friends _ , Regulus thought as they entered the kitchen in time to hear Zara yelling something about Milo stealing all the cookies. He thought maybe he liked the feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos keep me going xxxx
> 
> yell at me on tumblr @ moonys-crappy-doodles


End file.
